The Servants Gone To A Distant Planet
by Rosie Scrivello DDS
Summary: it's done!! it's finally done!! this is the SEQUEL to DARKNESS HAS CONQUERED BRAD AND JANET!! it's up and done!! if the end isn't all the way correct, oh well. it's what I know. one more chapter after this!


The Servants Gone To A Distant Planet…  
  
A/N: I'm back! Still here! Woo hoo!! =D In "Darkness Has Conquered Brad and Janet", this might have confused people. ¤¤¤ was just a section divider. ¤~¤~¤ was either a flash back or a dream, and it was at the beginning and the end or it. ^_^ I'll be using that again in the other chapters to come… I'm probably going to use stuff from Broadway because I've seen it way too many times... With Transgrastral, what Magenta mentions every so often is like the Time Warp, except it's different on other planets? Yes? Yes, yes I know [but it wasn't all bad, was it?], bad parodies, but give me a break. o.0 I'm also incorporating some of my other fics and insanities such as Charna (( MissMagenta on this site )) and Fiametta (( read the Letters from Transsexual trio )), two sisters as well as lovers of Frank, and random things from various works… The order of things later on and the Transsexual Letters might not make sense, but the letters were just to set up Charna and a basic gist. Okay? Aaaaaaaand... I used some Shocky stuff in here! Very little, but I did! I'm happy! Oh oh oh, and the years of when this is happening I use later on are for a reason.  
  
Come, it's time for the fic!  
  
  
  
The rumbling groan of the ship became a silent din in the background as the two sat in the control room.  
  
"We're almost there," he said.  
  
"I know," she said quietly back.  
  
He looked out the front of the control room at the stars zooming by. The sky, of course, was jet black, and the stars looked like comets flashing by. Already bored with traveling through space, he sighed and cocked his head in boredom.  
  
A small planet came into view; it was purple, and dotted with spots of black.  
  
"Transgrastral," Magenta said. She reached her hand out as if to touch the planet, memories coming back into her mind. "Where it's just a slip… [LOL Lisa, he took that slip to the right…]" her voice broke, and she pulled her hand back, discontinuing the sentence.  
  
Riff-Raff stood up, and stood behind Magenta she watched the small planet, her home planet for 4 earthling years, fade behind them.  
  
Placing his hands on her shoulders, he began to tenderly massage them as her head slowly leaned back to look at him.  
  
Another planet came into view. It was bright - didn't look liked it belonged. It was lime green and pink swirled. Moreover, that was only upon a distance glance. Transkomika was the planet of colour. Everywhere you went, everything was bursting with colour. Bright, vibrant pinks and greens, yellows and oranges, blues and purples. Everything.  
  
The people there were colourful too. All gorgeous people, of course. Everyone in Transylvania was gorgeous. But they were gorgeous in a colourful way. Their personalities bubbled with laughter; their idea of perfect night out included laughing with friends and lovers alike.  
  
They stared at the planet; living most of their lives on Transsexual, they did not understand the need for such dramatic colour.  
  
Then, in the distance, the far distance, a small planet started to come into focus. It was black. Very black, like the night around it. Somewhere, undetected but nevertheless you knew it was there, there was a purple tint.  
  
It looked peaceful and quiet - and gothic. The castle/space ship headed to the black planet and then entered its atmosphere.  
  
They glanced at each other and returned to the controls to take the craft off autopilot for the atmosphere and landing.  
  
"They're going to blame us," she said, silently, suddenly.  
  
"Not right away of course."  
  
"We could make something up."  
  
He turned his head back away from her and resumed "concentrating" on the controls.  
  
"We could say that the humans are a brutal race and attacked her son, or that Earth is unsuitable for our way of life - which appears to be different from earthlings."  
  
"Magenta, it's no use," he stood up suddenly, "Think about it - REALLY think about. The Queen sends her son, the infamous Prince Frank-N-Furter, Transylavanian-renouned scientist to further extend the studies of Earth and possibly tame one of the earthlings. Along with the Doctor/Prince (who has discovered the secret to life itself) is his blond hair-muscle bound dream boy who he plans to *create*, the two main servants of the Furter castle, along with 20 or so Upper Council Transylvanians! And who comes back, ALIVE? The two servants. ONLY the two servants. What does that say to you?!" he shouted at her in a bout of fury.  
  
Magenta said nothing after that and silently guided the ship down to its staring point, where it had blasted from so many "months" ago.  
  
She wanted to confront him; tell him that it was for the better and that soon the harsh rein on Transylvania will be over and gone. Queen Rhiannyon was gone. Queen Alta-Ríoghnach's rule would soon be over. But she couldn't. It just wouldn't be right.  
  
Riff paced near of the door of the control room, and she listened to the quick steps stepping, turning and the walking once more. He was very silent when he walked, but the ship was too silent.  
  
Deathly silent.  
  
¤¤¤  
  
She jumped straight up in the air, bolting out of bed.  
  
"FRAAAAAAAAANK!" she screamed as she looked around into the darkness.  
  
It was dark. She looked about - her room.  
  
Brad sleeping peacefully.  
  
Before she screamed 'Frank', anyway.  
  
Brad nearly fell out of bed as well at the scream of the name, and grabbed the sheets as she looked about.  
  
Now, when you are a normal, straight man of Brad's age, "violated" by transsexual aliens, and seduced by a transvestite, the name sticks in your mind. And he knew Janet enjoyed it. More than enjoyed. She must have gone into it willingly.  
  
So, when your wife screams out the name of transvestite, jolting you awake to find her out of bed, sweating as if she was in hell, and grabbing distraughtly onto her pajamas, you begin to wonder.  
  
"Janet!" he looked at her with wide-open, confused, eyes at his now wife shaking besides the bed.  
  
"Slut!" she said very randomly, trying not to laugh. "Sorry…" her eyes avoided his as he contemplated why on earth she would say that. Well… [ah hahaha!! Rocky humour!!]  
  
Trying not to think about it, Brad crawled over to her. "You… screamed? Frank's name?" he raised a question eyebrow.  
  
"Oh darling, I have the most terrible dream!" she burst into tears and quickly buried herself in Brad's arms, and found herself pretending back to that night with Frank - that when after everything was over, they just lay together and talked. There was a lot more to Frank than meets the eye. And then she realised [she's going home… couldn't help myself (]…  
  
¤¤¤  
  
The ship landed on the ground with a muted thud, and all was dark and silent. Everything was always dark on Transsexual, but now it was unusually silent. Magenta sat nervously, eying Riff out of the corner of her eye for their next move.  
  
He quietly stood and disappeared from the room. She turned around to watch him and see where he was going, but the door closed too quickly. Turning back around, she manned the controls once more and turned the engine off.  
  
Getting up herself, she quickly walked, almost ran, out of the room.  
  
See lost sight of Riff, and there were countless possibilities where he could have gone. Shrugging it off, of course not totally, she hurried up to their bedding chambers to make herself decent.  
  
¤¤¤  
  
"Janet, Janet, shhh… it's alright…" Brad held her closely in his arms and rocked her gently. Her tears had dried, but he could still feel pain emanating through her. He sighed and looked at the clock. 3.24. It was not that he was annoyed in having about four or so nights a week where he got minimal amounts of sleep. It was more so that Janet always awoke with the thought of Frank, and he never knew whether it was in lust or disgust.  
  
She signed in his arms as well, a bit more content. Almost out of a bizarre instinct, she reached upwards to grab the cord to turn the light on ((if you have the 25th anniversary DVD, on the "outtakes" from Janet's Seduction, apparently the original plan was that she reached up, turned the light on and there was Frank, not Brad. *shrugs* It was the only thing that would work. Its called a plot, live with it... ^_~)).  
  
She swung her arm around a few times, searching for the cord, but she couldn't find it. Almost puzzled, she sat up and looked for it.  
  
Then she realised that she was in Brad's bed. Not the guest room at the castle. It wasn't a pink room. There was no curtain, no light.  
  
Almost afraid, she turned around to look at Brad. He was looking down, biting his lip, his eyes shut. When he looked up at her, he had tears in his eyes. He knew what she was thinking. He knew what she was looking for.  
  
Janet sank back on the bed a little bit. It was out now. Just a simple movement had given everything away. He looked almost defeated.  
  
Not adverting his glare from her, he reached over and turned on his light.  
  
¤¤¤  
  
Her hand smacked the table. "Absolutely not! That's outrageous!"  
  
Another woman, dressed in a black and red corset, black garters, fishnets, heels, and silver and black makeup jumped out of her seat. "Not terribly outrageous if I'm here!"  
  
"Pratibha…" another woman, dressed as well in red and black, although in different patterns, stood up next to the woman who jumped up.  
  
The woman, Pratibha, glared at the one in silver and black makeup. "That was during Queen Rhiannyon's rule!"  
  
"Are you suggesting that The River of Night's Dreaming would be any BETTER?!" Fiametta rebelled right back. She was not a tall woman, not short either, somewhere in the middle; but quite well proportioned with the beauty and elegance of a Transylvanian.  
  
Her entire outfit was either red or black, including her hair. A bright vibrant red, something usually found on Transkomika, and streaks of black through it. It was fairly straight at the top, but went into curls and a wild mass about half way down. It was not a messy wild mass, but a rather stunning wild mass.  
  
The other woman standing was Charna, Fiametta's sister, both lovers of their brother. Fiametta looked visibly older, but only by 2 years.  
  
Charna had red curly hair, although, and looked almost nothing like her sister, but there was a resemblance hidden somewhere.  
  
Pratibha sat down with an annoyed look on her face, arms crossed.  
  
Fiametta continued what appeared to be a speech. "Columbia was here. Briefly, but here. Charna Aisling and myself are here. Even though Queen Rhiannyon's rule was, as you say, strict ruling, WE were still allowed up here."  
  
"Only under strict conditions," came a quiet voice from the back.  
  
"Yes, I think we know," Charna started up. "But we didn't fit in back there. And we fit in HERE. That's why we're HERE," she glared at Pratibha, "in the first place. Others who abide the laws, and show loyalty to farther reaches because capable human capacity should be brought here." She sat.  
  
"Earthlings…" could be heard escaping the ruby lips of Pratibha.  
  
"WE'RE NO LESS TRANSYLVANIAN THEN YOU ARE," Fiametta roared into her face.  
  
The door burst open, causing at least half the room to jump in alarm. Fiametta sat for fear of punishment, and everyone else snapped to attention.  
  
Riff-Raff, dressed in men's formal Transylvanian attire, quite richly decorated, stood in the door way, his sister close behind. Magenta although, was holding the transit beam and dressed in traditional traveling uniform.  
  
Charna and Fiametta looked at each other, recalling that corset from somewhere. It had fishnetted arms and flowers about the design. It was a dinner uniform, quite fancy as well.  
  
Within the second of realizing that they knew the outfit, they also knew where it came from; and what most likely happened. When they glanced at each other with looks of terror, and then at Riff-Raff…  
  
All he could do was nod.  
  
¤¤¤  
  
Time and how it moves travels differently between galaxies. While Fiametta and Charna realised the death of their brother, Tim celebrated his 15th birthday.  
  
The time when Janet reached for the cord to turn on the light was never spoken of again, but it was remembered.  
  
Every time she turned on a light, she felt the pain she felt so many years ago, when Brad knew that she wished to be with Frank again. Although it was ...occasionally... true, she did not need to let Brad know.  
  
And Brad could not forget. No matter how many years go by. Frank was not a symbol of love and finding happiness in life; he was a symbol of sign and deceit. When his wife, his own wife, Janet Weiss-now-Majors, wished to be with that fiend, the same anger and confusion flowed through him from that one fateful night...  
  
No! Not even he could not stop thinking about it. Every time he turned on a light, Brad felt better, taller, prouder. As if he was overcoming his "fear".  
  
Tim Majors, a charming boy now of 15 in the year of 1968, had turned out with black hair that curled (not a mass of wide curls, but rather flatter to his head) had grown to love artwork and painting, music and performing, but also a strange respect for anything and everything out there.  
  
Out there.  
  
With all his heart, he believed that there was someone out there. Upon asking his parents, who exchanged nervous glances every time he did so, they only said that they did not know and maybe...  
  
"... maybe you will never find out." Janet said absentmindedly one day.  
  
"Mom!"  
  
"Janet!"  
  
"But I want to know, I need to know! These pearls," he held up the pearls he apparently took from his mother, which made her gasp, "are larger than anything! And you know, I even took down to the jeweler's store, and you know what!? He said they were pearls, but too large to have been grown on Earth!"  
  
"Tim..." Brad started.  
  
"No, dad. Where are they from? The pieces don't fall into place!"  
  
"They will... oh they will," Janet said suddenly, and with an odd accent.  
  
Brad turned and stared in bewilderment. Not only at her, but how she said it. Blinking, Janet stood up, snatched the pearls quickly from Tim and walked upstairs.  
  
He stared at his mother, than he father who was just as puzzled.  
  
"Why do I have to have the screwed up family?!" he muttered in a small rage, and stormed off to his room.  
  
Brad sat at the table for moments longer. Where they back? Had Magenta somehow sent a message to Janet? Maybe they weren't even back and they had sent a message?  
  
So many questions raced through his head. He was tempted to go see Dr. Scott, but the man had grown older since that night so many years ago. Everett dare not speak of it, for he too had given over to decadence.  
  
"Refrigerator, why are we always sooner or later? Bitching in the kitchen or crying in the bedroom all night," he said, looking at the refrigerator, and then up to the ceiling at Janet and his room.  
  
¤¤¤  
  
Fiametta sat down in her chamber. Her body brushed against the velvet comforter on her bed. She curled underneath the sheets and let the silk embrace her. On a normal night, her brother would quietly steal into her room and lay beside her, be it in passionate lust or brotherly comfort. But that would never happen again. Her prince, her lover, her soul, her brother, was gone.  
  
¤¤¤  
  
Tim looked angrily around his room. There was no wall paper, no colour on the walls, just plain white. His room was messy and his sheets not tidy - expected of a boy of his age. But was tired of all of this. He was tired of listening to the popular music that all his friends liked, when all he really wanted to listen to was "Kiss Me, Kate" or "My Fair Lady". He'd get laughed out of school if he ever let that out. But his parents didn't mind. They nurtured his love for musicals.  
  
He heard the door open to his parent's room and his mother walk downstairs. Remembering he had left something for school in there, he quickly darted in. Looking around, he felt a new strange sense of power. It was his parents room, he had been in there times before, but now was something different.  
  
Tim walked over to a little display on a dresser of things he mom told him never to touch. A string of pearls, a maid's cap ((apparently)), a red feather boa and a pump that seemed to be missing it's mate.  
  
Out of curiosity, he put the pearls around his neck and quickly did the tie in the back. He walked into the bathroom. Upon looking in the mirror, he thought the pearls actually complimented his curly black hair. He puffed it out a little bit more.  
  
"Whoa. Tim. You're wearing pearls," he thought to himself, coming back to "reality". Taking them off, he went back into and put them with the other things.  
  
But now, for the first time, he really noticed the two drawers. The top one had a gold "B" on it, and the bottom one had a "J". He never really thought of them as anything special, but now something compelled him to open them.  
  
He opened the one that said B, assuming it meant Brad.  
  
Unfortunately, it was.  
  
When he opened the drawer, in it, he found the most unbelievable items. He even had to back away for a couple of moments from the utter shock.  
  
His own father! Had these! In his drawer! In his possessions! He leafed through the drawer in shock, and possibly disgust. At the bottom of the drawer, he jumped back at the item. His eyes grew wide, and he almost ran out of the room.  
  
In the drawer, on the top, he supposed to make it look fairly normal was blue and white striped boxers and a white undershirt. Neatly folded.  
  
When he lifted them up and out of the drawer, there was a little makeup kit which included eyeliners, foundation, and a lipstick that was labeled "BRAD".  
  
But that was not even the beginning.  
  
Shoved in there as well was red corset that had gold stripes and what looked like silver pieces of glass, large golden pumps, gold underwear and fishnets. Some it looked like the stuff his mother had in her collection, but that fact that his father had them... he was puzzled and lost.  
  
There were also some random items - a pink napkin, a glass that still had red wine stains in it, old square black glasses, some confetti shaped in pink and white hearts, and even a saxophone! It was a bigger drawer than he realised.  
  
But yet... underneath all that... was the most intriguing and most disturbing thing he ever thought he would find.  
  
A condom.  
  
And what is so bad about a condom?  
  
One with a little black lighting bolt at the end was not exactly normal.  
  
It just bothered him that it was tied at the end and seemed to still be filled with...  
  
¤¤¤  
  
Fiametta was now almost completely in a daze. Her mind wandered from her body in bed and journeyed through her history. She vaguely remembered coming here from Earth... writing to her friends, losing connection with them...  
  
"They all must be dead," she thought in remorse. Had that many years down there really gone by? She had lost count of all time, Transylvanian or Earth. There was so sun, no way to keep track. She remembered meeting Charna and bringing her up here. She remembered how she forgot about Earth and all her friends and past lovers. Only now did she remember the life she didn't love. Where society was just a façade. Where she had taken a knife to herself too many times to count because she couldn't say this; she couldn't do this; she couldn't think this.  
  
But on Transsexual life was good. She didn't remember heartache. She didn't remember pain. She didn't remember depression. Fiametta-Valda Furter didn't know that anything else besides happiness and pleasure existed on this planet.  
  
She was such in a daze and lost in memories, she had been completely oblivious to Charna walking into her room, and talking.  
  
Blinking, her emotions returned and she stirred just in time to hear  
  
"...you could go on like this forever; dreaming your life away. Keep on dreaming if you may, but just remember ...dreams die."  
  
¤¤¤  
  
Tim quietly closed the drawer of his father's and opened the one that said "J". There was a white bra, half-slip, stockings and white shoes placed neatly on the top. Knowing the drill, he moved those. Underneath, was again, the same makeup kit with lipstick labeled "JANET." The same corset, fishnets and heels. Although, his mother had a little tag that said HAPPY BIRTHDAY ROCKY in a fancy handwriting that he had not seen before. There was not much else, except about 10 crumply folded pieces of paper.  
  
He dared to open one.  
  
In a cursive handwriting that he knew as his mother's, it read:  
  
Michael Rennie was ill  
  
The Day The Earth Stood Still  
  
But he told us where we stand  
  
And Flash Gordon was there in silver underwear  
  
Claude Reins was The Invisible Man  
  
Then something went wrong  
  
For Fay Ray and King Kong -  
  
They got caught in a celluloid jam  
  
Then at a deadly pace  
  
It Came From Outer Space  
  
And this is how the message ran...  
  
Chorus: Science Fiction, Double Feature  
  
Dr. X will build a creature  
  
See androids fighting  
  
Brad and Janet  
  
Ann Francis stars in  
  
Forbidden Planet  
  
Who ho, oh oh oh oh oh  
  
At the late night, double feature, picture show  
  
I knew Leo G. Carroll was over a barrel  
  
When Tarantula took to the hills  
  
And I really got hot when I saw Jeanette Scott  
  
Fight a trifid that spits poison and kills  
  
Dana Andrews said prunes  
  
Gave him the rues  
  
And passing them used lots of skills  
  
But When Worlds Collide,  
  
Said George Pal to his bride  
  
I'm gonna give you some terrible thrills  
  
Like a...  
  
Chorus  
  
I wanna go, who ho, ho ho ho  
  
To the late night  
  
Double feature  
  
Picture show.  
  
Blinking, wondering if his mother had wrote that, he folded it back up and put it back in the drawer. "Are they all songs...?" he thought as he opened another one.  
  
It was in a language and form of writing that he could not decipher... but it looked scientific.  
  
And he knew well enough that his mother and science were not compatible.  
  
Still awkwardly confused on the pieces of paper, he opened another one.  
  
WE'RE ALL LIVING LIKE THERES NO TOMORROW AND THE WAY THINGS ARE GOING THAT'S PROBABLY TRUE  
  
was written clearly in his mother's handwriting.  
  
None of this made any sense at all... a song? Science formulas? A randomly scribbled phrase? He ran his fingers through his hair, but then instinctively went to fix it. Stopping mid-way, a new sense had come over him. Tim turned around to face the drawers again.  
  
With a determination that could not be stopped, he opened the "B" drawer. Pausing only to see if anyone was coming, he quietly slipped the fishnets, heels, and corset out of the drawer.  
  
Sneaking into the bathroom, he put the pearls once more around his neck. And smiled. This felt... normal?  
  
He took off his shirt, threw it across the bathroom, and slipped on the corset.  
  
"Wait. I'm in a corset. And pearls..." he blinked in confusion for a moment, but he looked in the mirror. He looked pretty good with curly black hair and pearls.  
  
He laced up the corset. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced... form fitting, yet not too tight; it was actually quite glamourous. He had never felt this comfortable, let alone while not putting on high heels.  
  
Tim knew the jeans didn't quite go with the look, but maybe gold underwear too much of a jump for today.  
  
Something was missing.  
  
Makeup.  
  
¤¤¤  
  
Tim Majors never quite knew how good blood red lipstick could look on a guy.  
  
Taking the makeup kit from his mother this time, he put on eyeliner, lipstick, glitter, eye shadow, foundation, blush...  
  
The finishing touches of the lipstick and glitter were being applied to his mouth when he heard a scream come from behind.  
  
"BRAAAD!" Tim whipped around, still holding the lipstick, in full makeup and corset, to look upon his mother.  
  
"HE'S NOT GONE!!! He'll never be gone..." his mother dropped to the floor, and stared wide-eyed at who she mistook for someone else...  
  
"Mom... I can-" he started quietly.  
  
"TIM!" his father burst into the room, immediately taken back. "What in hell's name do you think you are DOING?"  
  
"The pearls and hair... oh Tim is his not yours and this is his revenge for everything that happened and for trying to forget..." his mother rambled on with her eyes glazed over.  
  
"Tim, take the corset off. Take the pearls off. Take the heels off. Just take everything off," Brad said, taking deep breaths, and shutting his eyes.  
  
"And soon he'll be making advances in bio-chemical research and sleeping with men and women and whoever he wants and prancing around..." his mother kept going, now sitting on the bed.  
  
"Mom. I'm not gay," he stated quietly, taking a few cautious steps in the heels. Both of his parents flinched when the heels clicked with the ground. He sat next to his mom in bed, who wiped her tears away.  
  
"Oh honey..." she pulled him into a rug, still feeling a bit uncomfortable when the corset touched her again. "You can be want you want... don't dream it, be it, Tim, that's what someone else once told me. You can be my little sweet transvestite..."  
  
Tim kissed his mother, leaving traces of glitter and lipstick on her. "Although, I suppose if I was gay, I couldn't tell anyone," he turned to his father, now taller than him in the gold pumps.  
  
"Tim, you don't understand. Just take it off. Your mother is delirious right now. Please, don't do this to us. I'm not homophobic, Tim, I just had a bad run in with..."  
  
He glared at his father. There was something going on that he was not informed off. Something involving his parents to wear corsets and fishnets, a transvestite... and who knew what else.  
  
"Brad?" Janet had been leafing through his drawer and interrupted his sentence. In her hand she held the half-full tied condom. "Would you care to explain? Or was I not the only one who wanted to be toucha-toucha touched?"  
  
Tim looked from his father to his mother, and back again. There was definitely something up. "Okay, you know what. This is just a bit much for me. Dad, this is yours. Sorry. Mom, this is your makeup, sorry. I'll never do it again, I guess..." He took off the corset, heels, and pearls, and then journeyed downstairs to take off the makeup, leaving Brad and Janet alone.  
  
"Janet... what was I supposed to do with it? It was a memento..."  
  
"And you tell me that it's wrong to remember it and to get rid of my things?"  
  
"But... I don't know..." Brad looked defeated.  
  
"Brad, if you like men just tell me. This marriage doesn't have to be if you're unhappy."  
  
"Janet!"  
  
"Well, apparently we had a something for Frank!"  
  
"Who didn't have a little something for Frank!?"  
  
"Am I talking to the same man who told me he was a beast and monster?"  
  
"Things have changed."  
  
"LOOK WHO'S TALKING!" Janet roared. "You forbid our son to be anything more or less than you were! What if he is gay? What if he is a transvestite? Why deny him? He isn't your son anyway. He's FRANK's song."  
  
The words hit him harshly, harder than he knew his wife was capable of. "Well, fine. I apparently don't fit in with your life. Sorry I made it so hard!" He turned on his heel and stormed out the door.  
  
And somewhere, simultaneously surrounding them and in their heads, and a very familiar voice whispered: I win.  
  
¤¤¤  
  
She did not know how long it was after Charna had left. All she knew that Frank would not be forgotten as an egotistical spoiled brat by the River of Night's Dreaming, who were now the current rulers of Transsexual. They were supposedly better than Queen Alta, who everyone claimed was strict.  
  
No. They really weren't.  
  
Riff-Raff and his inferior sister, Magenta, were almost marveled as gods. Although, she did feel sorry for Magenta - she lived either in her brother's shadow, or doing her brother's bidding.  
  
Riff had changed also. He had helped himself to the castle, plus anything, and everything of Frank's. Although, he did not have servants, and room were occasionally available to the less fortunate. Hence the godly stature.  
  
Fiametta meandered over to her writing desk and pulled out some blank sheets of "paper", as Urthians called it. She pondered through her memories...  
  
"Frank must not die in vain..." she spoke out loud to herself. She remembered that fateful night, so long ago... It was a mission to Earth for extensive study on humans and their culture. She remembered going to a pointless Earthling wedding, and then zipping back to the castle on motorbikes. She was told she could not be seen.  
  
She helped in the kitchen with dinner, cleaned the lab with Riff and Magenta, but journeyed off to fetch more cleaning solution; upon her arrival, Rocky was gone.  
  
But she did Time Warp at the party. That was an occasion not to be missed.  
  
Fiametta tapped a finger against her ruby lips and sighed.  
  
Wait! Her lips! She could tell Frank's story!  
  
Quickly recalling the town of where they had been, Denton, she wrote that atop the paper. Her heart increasing and mind racing, she scribbled down Frank's favourite phrase: Don't Dream It, Be It.  
  
She remembered being backstage to clean up after the floorshow. She heard Frank singing a mournful song. He was going home. It was almost like happiness, but empty. Recalling the words, she wrote them down as well.  
  
Fiametta memorized almost every detail about that night. They did not often receives visitors there!  
  
"He must not die in vain..." she kept repeating to herself, and wrote down a story that was like no other... one that must be told to the universe.  
  
Hours later, upon being down, she quickly dashed through hallways and punched in secret cods... until she reached the transit crystal.  
  
¤¤¤ England, 1971 ¤¤¤  
  
He opened the door of his small flat in London. His wife looked up from feeding the baby.  
  
"I got fired."  
  
"Oh... Honey..." His wife got up and kissed him, and he took a seat in a chair. He slouched down for a second. Sighing, he got up and walked to their room, which was only a few steps away.  
  
She sighed herself, but continued with the baby.  
  
In their room... he was struck with sudden inspiration. All the musicals of today were too ordinary and clean cut. England needed a shocker. Grabbing a pen, he jotted down some lyrics that came to mind. When he was done, days later, he read it over, and titled it "I'm Going Home".  
  
His name was Richard O'Brien. 


End file.
